


Scary Monster (and Super Creeps)

by Faceplant17



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Biting, Exhibitionism, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash, Sort Of, everybody's chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 04:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21264884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faceplant17/pseuds/Faceplant17
Summary: happy halloween witches. it's still halloween so it counts. have some smut





	Scary Monster (and Super Creeps)

During fifth period Richie excused himself to the bathroom. It was partially a ploy. They had just begun the section on matrices and he felt he would rather go for a walk than do the assigned worksheet. Hopefully by the time he got back the teacher would be explaining it.

He took his time walking through the hushed corridors, going one floor down to the typically empty bathroom near the science labs.

He pushed open the door and was met with the smell of burning tobacco, and bit back a groan of annoyance when he found the bathroom only nearly empty. Patrick Hockstetter was sitting in the windowsill, smoking a cigarette. He watched Richie walk in.

“Fuck. I thought you were Mr. Reese.” He said, turning his head to exhale a stream of smoke through the open window.

“Didn’t see him.“ Richie said with a shrug. He lingered near the door, shoving his hands in his pockets to resist the urge to twitch his fingers. “Shouldn’t you be in class or something?”

“I’m busy.” Patrick snarked, with a haughty toss of his hair. This attitude was likely the reason he had stayed back so many times. Richie wasn’t sure exactly how many but at least twice, and this was his second round as a senior, making it the first time they were in the same grade.

He didn’t even know how old Patrick was, honestly, he was just always there. Always had been. A thorn in Richie’s side along with his dumbass friends. When they were kids he would hold Richie down so Henry could rub dirt on his glasses. Bowers wasn’t here now though, and Richie thought privately that Patrick wasn’t that bad on his own. Just kind of creepy. Quiet- watchful- with a slightly sinister air.

“Well, can’t you do that somewhere else?” Richie gave their surroundings a pointed once-over. Patrick leaned back against the window pane, crossing one leg over the other.

“Don’t let me stop you, sweetheart.” He purred, taking a drag off his cigarette and tipping it towards Richie.

Richie felt his face get hot. He rolled his eyes, self-consciously pressing his fingers to his neck as if to rub the incriminating flush away. “As if.” He muttered. He opted for leaving off on the witty comebacks in favor of heading for a stall, since he might as well use the bathroom after walking all the way here and he sure as fuck didn’t trust Patrick enough to whip his dick out in front of him. “Bite me, asshole.”

Patrick uncrossed his legs and flicked his cigarette into a sink. “If you insist.” He said.

He hopped off the ledge, rushing Richie while his back was turned and he was standing in the doorway of the stall, giving him nowhere to turn but inward.

“What the fuck-” he began, lifting an arm, elbow out, to defend himself, choked off when Patrick grabbed that forearm and forced him back into the stall. His fingers slid down to his wrist, circling it in an iron grip and using it to yank him around and press his front against the cool metal wall. “Patrick, what the fuck?” He yelled into the surface, half-muffled as his face was being kind of crushed at the moment.

He pinned Richie to the wall with his own body, stepping in close behind him. When Richie tried to push against it with his free hand to dislodge him, he retaliated by lacing his fingers in Richie’s shaggy hair and pulling tight. Richie grunted. Patrick stepped in closer. He wound his fingers tighter in Richie’s hair, inching his head back.

Pinpricks of pain blossomed in his scalp at the hard grip, and threads of real fear wormed through his gut when Patrick leaned in, grinning, a grin that showed off entirely too many gleaming teeth. He swooped in so close that for an instant Richie thought he might kiss him and he felt light-headed at the prospect, his stomach doing little nervous flips. At the last second Patrick dipped his head lower, pushing his face into Richie’s exposed throat.

His mouth found the skin there- his _mouth_\- he was kissing along the bluish vein that thrummed in Richie’s throat- _he was kissing him-_ the same vein that was now pounding furiously, with a roar that blocked everything else from his senses. Patrick dragged his tongue along it, tracing the thin blue-green line as it curved under Richie’s chin and back down to where it sank down under the delicate feeling bones of his neck.

Richie barely had time to register the sensation before Patrick was replacing tongue with those shining teeth, sinking them in. Richie whimpered, fingertips digging for purchase on the smooth metal of the bathroom stall and finding nothing. He arched back into the solid mass of Patrick behind him, tossing his head back against his shoulder and further exposing his throat. Patrick latched on more firmly, breaking through tender flesh. Richie let out a cry at this, a sound that was at once half sob and half moan, a sound like a helpless animal.

Patrick hummed appreciatively against his skin. He loosened his grip on Richie’s hair just slightly, rubbing his fingertips over his abused scalp. He let go of his wrist, creeping his hand up along his arm to squeeze his shoulder, dipping his thumb against the hollow of Richie’s throat. His mouth sealed over the bite as he pulled his teeth out, and he dragged his tongue over the broken flesh as if to soothe it. He could taste the iron tang of blood. He sucked hard, hard enough to burst the blood vessels under that thin skin.

Richie felt a pull in his belly when he did that, a deep pooling heat that thundered in his ears. He felt he could not have stood on his own, that Patrick was the only thing keeping him afloat at the moment.

Patrick pulled back to inspect his work, leaving Richie’s body cold where it was exposed to the gap now between them. He made a keening sound at the loss of contact, another noise foreign to him. He was beyond caring. He glared at Patrick over his shoulder through half slit eyes and tried to catch his breath.

“Why’re you stopping?” He demanded hoarsely.

Patrick’s grin returned, curling slowly over his lips as he took Richie in; cheeks flushed, pupils wide, trapped firmly beneath him. He bent down to flick his tongue along the shells of Richie’s ear.

“I’m just getting started.” He hissed. Richie shivered under him.

Patrick was finally, _finally_, letting go of his hair, letting his head fall forward to knock against the wall. He seized Richie’s elbow and spun him around roughly. A huff of breath was knocked out of him but Patrick was already reaching down, shoving his hand up the front of Richie’s shirt. He found a nipple, pinching it and rolling it and scraping with his nails. He was just as cruel with his fingers as with his mouth. It ached, but it also didn’t. Richie whimpered at the strange new pleasure.

Patrick stuck his other hand up Richie’s shirt and pushed it up under his armpits. He bent and took a nipple in his mouth. Richie gave a soft wordless cry of surprise when Patrick swirled his tongue around the small nub before seizing it with his teeth and tugging lightly. He did the same to the other nipple, then slowly dropped into a crouch. He groped along Richie’s hips, holding him in place, fingertips burning brands into his skin. He mouthed up from Richie’s belly button, scraping lightly with his teeth, finding the soft fleshy area of his abdomen below his sternum.

Richie let out another high, breathless whine when Patrick sank his teeth into that soft flesh. Not quite as hard as before, but hard enough for Richie to feel the incisors on top and bottom attempting to meet through the chunk of meat. His hands dropped blindly down to fall on Patrick’s shoulders, gripping him so hard through his shirt he thought he would probably leave marks of his own. His head dropped back against the cold metal wall, catching his lower lip in his teeth.

When Patrick let go he let out his breath in harsh gasp. Patrick tilted his head back to look at Richie from down by his hips. “You like this?” He asked.

Richie stared back at him. “Uh.” He articulated.

Patrick stroked his hand over the front of his jeans and Richie bit his lip again by accident, arching into Patrick’s touch. “You’re getting hard. Should I keep going?”

Going where? Richie’s brain fuzzily attempted to define that. “I don’t- I don’t know.” He managed to say.

Patrick smiled up at him, somewhat mockingly he thought, stroking him again harder. “Simple question. Should I stop or keep going?”

“Where would you bite next?” Richie asked with unfeigned interest, although he found speaking difficult as his mouth was suddenly uncomfortably dry. He attempted to swallow and remoisten it.

“No teeth this time.” Patrick said, snapping those teeth with an audible click that raised goosebumps on Richie’s flesh. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the front of Richie’s jeans, open-mouthed, breath hot, dragging his tongue lewdly against the denim. Richie watched soundlessly, jaw slack, as he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. Jerking him slowly, he swallowed the tip and let the whole shaft slide in his mouth.

“Oh my fuck.” Richie groaned, letting his head fall back again, this time with an audible metallic clattering as the wall buckled under his weight.

“Shut up, Trashmouth.” Patrick said, swiping his tongue lazily along the underside of the flared head. “You want someone coming in and checking our hall passes?” He opened his mouth to take the whole shaft back in.

Richie bit his lower lip in an attempt to stifle his cursing, which actually made it worse because it reminded him of Patrick’s teeth in his neck. He nervously twisted his shirt fabric in his hands where he held it up against his chest. Patrick was pulling off his dick, his hand coming up to pick up where his mouth was leaving off, coating his shaft with a layer of spit. He pumped his hand a couple of times, his other coming up between Richie’s legs to play with his sack. Richie half-strangled a moan as it fell from his lips.

Patrick took him back in his mouth, all the way down again, sucking hard and grazing his length with his teeth, the fucking liar. Richie involuntarily bucked his hips forward once. Patrick choked around his length.

“Shit, sorry.” Richie managed to gasp out, peering down at him red-faced.

“It’d be _so_ lame otherwise.” Patrick said once he pulled Richie’s dick out from his throat, flashing another toothy grin. “Look, you’re getting me all worked up now, too.” He leaned back, one hand drifting between his spread knees to palm the bulge in the front of his skinny jeans. “You oughta do something about it.”

“Like what?” Richie asked tentatively, not opposed but not sure what exactly to do for him.

Patrick launched himself to his feet like he was waiting for that question to be asked. He closed the door to the bathroom stall and locked it. He turned back to Richie and roughly yanked his shirt up off over his head. “Come here.” He said, locking one hand around around Richie’s upper arm and turning him around to face the toilet. Richie stared down at it uncomprehendingly. He felt Patrick putting a hand on the middle of his back, trying to press him forward. He raised his hands to brace them against the walls on either side.

“What are you doing?” He asked warily.

“Just-” Patrick’s voice floated up to him as he sank back down somewhere behind him, sounding impatient, “relax.”

He undressed him fully, pulling his shoes off one at a time, dragging his pants and boxers completely off. He tossed Richie’s clothing up onto the silver plumbing that attached the toilet to the wall.Richie bit back a disgusted noise, swallowing it whole when he felt Patrick’s teeth sinking back into his right buttock. He jumped, startled, but Patrick was holding him in place and he couldn’t go too far.

He didn’t bite down as hard this time and he didn’t linger, moving his mouth quickly to the small of Richie’s back, biting a trail upwards along the notches of his spinal column. Still, each gentle tug from his teeth sent little shivery pulses straight through the bottom of Richie’s spine to his dick. When Patrick was once more standing at his full height he again splayed his palm between Richie’s shoulder blades, and this time Richie yielded to the pressure and bent forward until he was kneeling on the toilet seat.

He waited, only a tiny bit apprehensive, as Patrick roved his hands along his body, stroking his sides, down his hips, groping his ass and spreading his cheeks apart.

“Ah, fuck.” Richie whimpered as Patrick exposed him. His heart was thudding; he realized fully how vulnerable he was. When he heard Patrick unzipping his pants he felt a little thrill blaze up his spine. Was Patrick going to fuck him? He decided immediately he was okay with that, location be damned.

But Patrick only grabbed at his legs, adjusting them on the seat, moving them closer together and pushing Richie further down onto all fours. “Keep em tight.” He said.

Richie felt something hard and warm pressing between his thighs, under his spit-slick shaft. He realized it was Patrick’s cock. He couldn’t stop the breathy little moans he was making as Patrick pushed forward, the flared head dragging agonizingly slowly along the bottom of his shaft. He reached forward and grabbed the plumbing just to have something to hold onto. He was protected mostly from the shock of cold metal by his clothing draped across it.

Patrick pushed in until his hips were touching Richie’s backside, his hard cock flush against Richie’s, leaking precome. The hot, hard friction had Richie’s head spinning, and when Patrick pulled back and jerked his hips forward again it forced another involuntary cry from him. Patrick moved his cock in and out of Richie’s thighs as if he really were fucking him. Probably a bit more forcefully, even, seeing as Richie was a virgin and that would have hindered his ability to let loose like this. As it was he held Richie’s hips tight enough to bruise and kept up a rough pace, slamming and stroking against Richie’s shaft and balls.

Abruptly one of Patrick’s hands left his hip, grabbing a handful of hair and pulling hard. Richie tipped his head back obediently, his spine following into a slightly unnatural curve.

“Act slutty.” Patrick ordered, and Richie arched his back even further. Patrick’s other hand moved from his hip to his ass, pawing at his cheeks again. Richie found himself pushing back into Patrick’s fondling grip, meeting Patrick’s forward thrust halfway. Patrick made an appreciative noise. “Yeah, like that.” He grunted, his palm coming down flat on Richie’s ass. Richie jumped in surprise, moving forward again, then with a little effort he began attempting to match Patrick’s rhythm.

It felt a lot better not that Richie was actually participating, but he had hardly any time to enjoy it before Patrick was tightening his grip on Richie’s hair and bending forward to slide an arm around his chest. Using both grips as leverage he pulled Richie up onto his knees.

“The fuck-” Richie mumbled, cut off by Patrick clapping a tight hand over his mouth. His ears perked at the sound of hinges creaking, footsteps echoing across the tiles.

Someone was coming in.

Richie’s heart pounded in his chest. Patrick’s fingers were digging into his face. His breath was hot on Richie’s neck. “Shh.” He breathed in his ear, as if he really needed the reminder. The air still reeked of cigarette ashes and whoever it was obviously didn’t care; they just needed to wait them out.

Then Patrick twisted his head to one side and bit down firmly on his neck. Richie’s eyes rolled back as he struggled to keep his sounds contained under Patrick’s hand, biting his tongue so hard he thought he tasted blood. He squirmed in Patrick’s grip, trying to escape the pinch of his incisors, his tongue soothing the broken flesh. He listened in vain to the sound of the very unwelcome visitor pissing into a urinal, resisting the urge to heave a loud obnoxious sigh at how long he was taking.

To his horror, he felt the hand on his ribcage inching downward, creeping towards his stiff erection. He tried to elbow him. Patrick’s teeth bit down even harder on his pulse point, fingers tightening over his mouth. He shook him once, lightly, enough that Richie stopped moving against him and let him do what he wanted. He reached down and took hold of his cock. Richie’s half-strangled groan was masked by the flushing of the urinal.

Patrick’s hand curled around his shaft, stroking upwards slowly. Richie put both of his hands on top of the hand over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as Patrick played with the tip. He was half aware of the sound of water running in the sink. He seemed to take an absurdly long time washing his hands considering Richie himself was usually content with dipping his hands in and out of the water, if that. But eventually the water stopped and the sound of the person walking picked up, exiting the bathroom completely unaware of what had transpired, was still transpiring, in the middle stall, leaving behind an atmosphere of thickened silence.

Richie elbowed him for real now. “You asshole.” He seethed.

Patrick’s laughter was bright and mocking as he let go of him completely. Richie felt a twinge of regret, thinking he had caused him to stop. Patrick surprised him by coming around and throwing a leg over the toilet seat. He dropped down on it, lifting Richie as he did so and pulling him forward so that when he was fully seated Richie was straddling his thighs. Naked, he remembered. Blushing, he let his feet touch the linoleum floor, lifted to balance on his toes.

“What now?” He asked, searching for some kind instruction in Patrick’s amused smirk.

“Get me off.” He said.

“I, uh, don’t know how.” Richie admitted.

“You can do it. You’re doing do good.” Patrick encouraged, stroking his sides and down the flanks of his thighs, digging his fingers into the meat there.

Richie preened a little under the compliment, although he tried not to show it. Going by Patrick’s expression he was unsuccessful. Richie ignored him and began moving against him, hesitantly at first. He pressed the balls of his feet into the floor and bounced up and down as he gained a little more confidence, trying to imitate that same snapping motion Patrick had employed earlier.

His cock rubbed along the underside of Patrick’s, both now flushed red and slick with precome. Patrick was watching him from under half-lidded eyes and he had no choice but to look back seeing as they were seated face to face. He had hit his growth spurt after sophomore year, finally. He still wasn’t as tall as Patrick but sitting in his lap like this they were very nearly eye to eye. He bit his lip before slowly closing the gap between them and awkwardly pressing his mouth to Patrick’s.

It was his first kiss, but so was everything else even if they had the order a bit backwards, and he wanted no stone left unturned. He kept his eyes shut, fully expecting to get hit. Instead Patrick squeezed his thighs and yanked him closer.

He sucked Richie’s lower lip into his mouth, and when Richie let out a little surprised sound Patrick stuck his tongue in his mouth, swiping it along his bottom molars. Richie felt him smiling.

“Seems like you might have wanted to do that for a while, Tozier.” He taunted against his mouth.

“Shut up.” Richie muttered. Patrick reached back, shoved a dry finger inside him with no warning. “F-fuck.” Richie blurted out, falling forward to bury his face in Patrick’s neck.

Patrick pulled him back with a hand in his hair, kissing him again, harder this time. He bit Richie’s lip until he opened his mouth to him, pushing his finger deeper. The pinch and shock of his initial entry had worn off; although it didn’t feel good exactly the stretch sent sparks shooting to his core. He panted against Patrick’s open mouth.

“Keep moving.” Patrick growled. His eyes were very dark.

Legs trembling, Richie slid forward, stroking his shaft along Patrick’s. When he came back down Patrick’s finger slid deeper inside him, Richie let out a little gasp, his mouth finding Patrick’s again.

Patrick’s hand clamped to the back of his neck, keeping him in place as he fucked himself on his finger, pushing himself up and down on his lap. He dug his fingertips into Patrick’s torso; now he was the one leaving bruises.

When he came back down it forced Patrick’s finger that much deeper, along the walls of his channel, rubbing against some hidden nerve that sent flares of pleasure up his spine. He moaned, grabbing two fistfuls of Patrick’s shirt. He crawled closer in his lap, grinding their shafts together.

He couldn’t think straight, could only focus on Patrick’s hard cock against his, Patrick trying to choke him with his tongue, Patrick’s finger stroking that spot inside him that made him shake and babble with need. He pressed forward, groaning as he came suddenly, splashing up on his chest and belly.

Patrick gave him a minute to recover before he was pulling his finger out, standing and turning to drop Richie back on the seat of the toilet.

“Open wide.” He said, threading his fingers through Richie’s hair and tipping his head back.

Richie barely had time to open his mouth. Patrick pressed the head of his cock between his lips, sliding over his tongue towards the back of his throat. He gagged, drool leaking out around the seal of his mouth as struggled to breath at the same time. Patrick only shoved deeper, pulled out then back on once, then he was pulling out and stroking his cock as he was coming on Richie’s face. Richie screwed his eyes shut in surprise.

“That was fun, Trashmouth.” Patrick was saying as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Richie slowly opened one eye. “Um, yeah.” He said, for lack of an interesting comeback.

Patrick ran one finger through the strings of come over Richie’s cheekbone. He touched his fingertip to Richie’s lower lip and Richie, transfixed, opened his mouth to him. He licked the come off and swallowed it. Patrick’s grin widened.

“When you’re done with all this,” he said, circling the index finger of his other hand in a vague circle and pulling his finger out of Richie’s mouth with a pop, “come find me.”

And with that he sauntered out, leaving Richie naked in the bathroom stall.

Richie quickly got dressed, scrubbing the come off his skin with paper towels, and hurried back to class. The teacher said nothing as he slunk back into the classroom and dropped into his seat, where he saw, happily, that she was in the process of explaining problem two on the board. He ignored Eddie’s curious, concerned looks as he flipped his worksheet over and proceeded to copy down the answers.

**Author's Note:**

> so this was mostly inspired by an otp prompt i found on pinterest, which reads as follows for anyone interested:
> 
> person a: *growls* bite me asshole  
person b: *shrugs* ok  
person a: wait what!?  
person b: *bites person a's shoulder*  
person a: ugh... *grips arm*  
person b: *stops and pulls back*  
person a: *flushed pink, eyes dilated* who told you to stop?  
person b: as you wish  
person a: stop quoting princess bride!
> 
> title was blatantly "inspired" by the david bowie song of the same name.
> 
> also uhhhh this is my first time publishing smut!! lol. so i'm basically a virgin plz be gentle TwT
> 
> ETA after some rereading and reflection i've decided to drop this down to an M rating. It just doesn't feel E to me (sorry guys, i tried). I can totally change it back if need be


End file.
